A folder in which to store some old poems written before 2003 |
For an aunt with Alzheimer’s The holiday for peace, love, and joy, flourishing in uncertainty, as Aunt Janice sits rocking, incomprehensive of cousin Henry’s relief of her survival, after walking into the waves one late November night. No more does she take notice of complicated things, the oldies, even Chad and Jeremy’s crooning, “They say that all good things must end some day Autumn leaves must fall But don't you know that it hurts me so To say goodbye to you...” Her grasp misses quaint customs, ours, as well as hers, such as offering eggnog to strangers, singing carols at midnight, and on Christmas morning, walking along the docks, the marina, and old houses with dormers while a hazy sunshine glistens the faces of rocks. Nothing is sure now; in this seaside town, only the honor exists of subliminal whispers and long-ago feelings. The age of ice has solidified the mind, erasing information, with veils of snow covering her foundation and memory. But, what if clouds hide the sky and permanence is impossible to guarantee? All Aunt Janice asks for is a candy bar and a glimpse of the ocean from her window. That simple! |